Obligations
by reveur-de-minuit
Summary: Two one-shots revolving around two people's reluctance to get married. Written for the 2013 Summer Fanfiction Olympics Competition!
1. Chapter 1

_**Round 2:**_

_Gymnastics_

_**Pairing:**_

_Draco Malfoy x Astoria Greengrass_

_**Prompt:**_

_Vault, a ring, Envy, "I missed you", wave, carry_

**_Disclaimer:_**

_I own nothing recognizable._

* * *

**The Curse of Being A Pureblood**

The deafening sound of voices blurred all around him, combined with the clinking of glasses in joyous celebration. Everyone was excited, and smiles and well-wishes were being directed towards a specific couple in the centre of the table. The two joined hands, shielding the nearly priceless, gaudy engagement ring from everyone's view. It was merely seconds until the girl realised this and continued to wave it in everyone's faces. Nobody seemed to mind this display. Well, nobody except for one person in particular.

Draco Malfoy was resisting the nearly overwhelming urge to glare at the bride-to-be. It wasn't that he was displeased with the announcement; a fucking squib could have seen it coming. It wasn't that Blaise and Pansy, his two childhood friends, were now engaged.

No, the reason he was downing firewhiskey, was the constant reminder that was staring him in the face.

It was tradition that the Malfoy heir marry before the age of twenty-five, and it was also tradition that his marriage be to a respectable, pureblood witch who was proven to be fertile.

It was just ridiculous. Not only were the laws written back when marriage at the age of thirteen was ordinary, but all of the women who fit the description of the perfect wife utterly bored him. His parents had set him up with Astoria Greengrass, even after he'd expressed his disinterest. It wasn't that she wouldn't make a good addition to the Malfoy family-she would be perfect-Draco just didn't feel anything towards her. He'd been asked to get to know her during his final year at Hogwarts, and even when the war things difficult, he still didn't seem to feel anything other than bored around her. Regardless of his wishes, the engagement was made and Draco's life was signed away.

His mother was of no help. All she ever went on about was how wonderful of a daughter Astoria would be, and how he couldn't wait to have grandchildren. He scowled into his glass. It had been easy for his mother and father to get married. Both went to school together and seemed matched from the moment they laid eyes on each other. He'd briefly considered Pansy, but she was too clingy and knew him too well. Not only that, but Malfoy women were known for being beautiful, and Pansy resembled a pug far too much for his liking.

Draco was turning twenty-four in a few days, and instead of celebrating another year in his young life, he was counting down the days until his life would forever be spent in misery. He didn't want to get married. He was only twenty-three for fuck's sake! He glared at his friend's sickeningly happy expressions and resisted the urge to avada their asses on the spot. He hated how they got their pathetic happy ending. Even if he wanted to get married, he highly doubted there would be a single witch in Britain that would make a suitable wife by his standards.

Whiskey-brown eyes full of innocence hidden beneath a head of riotous coffee-coloured curls popped into his head.

He ignored the person unwillingly entering his mind and knocked back another swig of the foul drink. He savoured the burn that warmed his throat, and thoroughly counted on getting plastered that night. He wouldn't think of her. Not when he was engaged to Astoria.

Try as he might, he couldn't get the image of the muggle-born out of his mind.

Yes, he was definitely getting plastered tonight.

"Hey there, Mr. Brooding, what's got you in a rut?" Blaise asked, drawing him out of his reverie. He looked at his friend with disdain.

"I wasn't brooding, dumbass." He growled, taking another shot of his drink. His friend raised a single eyebrow in question, and Draco glared at him.

"Why are you so pissy?" He asked, ignoring the murderous looks Draco was sending him. He sighed once he realized that the newly engaged man wasn't going to let up.

"Carrying the Malfoy name is a bitch." He answered after a few moments of silence. Blaise opened his mouth to respond when an older classmate came up to him.

"Hey mate, congratulations! I missed you last week, but it's alright. Any chance of meeting up again this weekend?" The Slytherin was evidently trying to suck up to Blaise, and Draco was resisting the urge to laugh out loud at his forward antics.

The thought of school made him think of a certain bushy-haired Gryffindor with eyes full of courage and fire.

Dammit, he needed more to drink.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Round 2:**_

_Gymnastics_

_**Pairing:**_

_Hermione Granger x Ron Weasley_

_**Prompt:**_

_Vault, a ring, sunset, Hermione Granger, orange, wave_

**_Disclaimer:_**

_I own nothing recognizable. _

* * *

**Trapped**

"Congratulations!"

"We always knew this would happen."

"I've been waiting for this for so long!"

"Welcome to the family!"

"We're so happy for you!"

"It was meant to be!"

"It's about time!"

All of the praise fell upon deaf ears as Hermione Granger absently played with the new ring that adorned her left hand. Nausea was rising in the pit of her stomach, her heart pounding relentlessly within her chest. She grabbed a passing flute of champagne, downing its contents to prevent the bile from rising in her throat. She couldn't deal with the "joyous celebration" occurring all around her. She just couldn't.

"Are you alright, Hermione?" The man to her right, the reason behind all of her misery, asked. She nodded her head briskly, offering the redhead a weak smile. Thankfully, he believed her, and turned back to their friends, smoking from his celebratory cigar. She closed her eyes, foolishly believing that when she opened them, all would return back to normal. This couldn't have been happening, she was sure she'd go mad if it was. She forcefully tuned out everyone around her, and tried to pinpoint exactly when everything began to go wrong.

_It was just after eight, and The Witching Hour, the restaurant they frequented, was packed. It was a small, upscale place located in muggle London, just off the Thames. It was a particularly beautiful evening; the sky rippled with colour, while the sun's rays reflected like diamonds off of the waves of the river. They were talking as they always were, all eager to rid themselves of the day's stress. Harry and Ron were joking loudly, as always, while Ginny and Fleur attempted conversation. Hermione looked towards Luna, who was eagerly pointing to various unseen animals to her fiancee, Rolf. Neville was animatedly chatting with his girlfriend, Hannah Abbot. Hermione had been surprised at the pairing since neither of the two talked during their days at Hogwarts, but was pleased for her friend nonetheless. Bill and her had attempted to talk over the loud table, but it was a very short conversation. Ron draped an arm over her shoulder possessively, as though trying to ward off his married older brother. Hermione rolled her eyes, her frustration building. _

_After graduation, Ron had run off to join the Chudley Canons, and as a result, neither she nor Harry saw him often. They continued to date, even though she saw him a few times a year. She felt comfortable dating him, but if she had to admit it to herself, she knew there was something missing. She felt chemistry whenever they were together, but the moment he left, she found herself wondering why she liked the redhead at all. She loved him dearly, but not in the same way he loved her. He was in love with her. She just loved him. It was similar, but not the same thing. _

_She had felt trapped for a while now. She didn't know a way out of her situation. If they broke up, the friendship would be lost. Harry and her friends would be put into awkward positions to try to please both of them. Ron, due to his temper, would probably end up making them choose between being friends with himself or her. She didn't want to tear everything apart. She couldn't. _

_So she stayed with him. _

_He gripped her hand fiercely, his palm hot and slightly sweaty. She felt dread race through her system. She didn't understand the source of the feeling, so she ignored it. He maintained his grip all throughout their meal, even though Hermione was struggling to eat with her left hand. It was when the plates were cleared that she felt that pang of dread again. The sunset had allowed her the darkness she needed to disguise the slight curl of her lip in disgust. She took a sip of champagne, hoping it would ease her suddenly nervous stomach. Ron cleared his throat, his palm noticeably clammy. She fought back the urge to take her hand back, knowing it would offend the volatile redhead. _

_"Hermione?" Ron asked, his voice wavering slightly with nerves. She glanced at him, her heart plummeting. He looked nervous and filled with hope. She felt adrenaline course through her. She knew that look. She had seen it when Rolf proposed to Luna, and when Harry proposed to Ginny. _

_No. No. No. No. NO._

_This wasn't happening. _

_It couldn't be. _

_Nausea flipped in her stomach, her breathing increased by tenfold. She didn't know whether she wanted to scream, cry, or vomit. So she stayed perfectly still, cleared her throat, and responded._

_"Yes, Ron?" Her body felt hot, and a light sheen of sweat began to form on her upper lip. Her heart and stomach plummeted as she watched him clumsily rise from his chair, only to fall onto one knee beside her. _

_Stars danced in her vision, telling her to release the breath she hadn't known she was holding. Tears formed in her eyes, but not for the reason he suspected. _

_"You, Hermione Granger, are the love of my life. We faced the greatest evils together, proving that love conquers all. I knew from the first time we kissed that I would never again find someone like you. Hermione, you're it for me. You're the first and only woman I've ever loved. And it would be an honor if you spent the rest of your life by my side." Ron declared, his voice steadily growing with confidence. A quiet hush fell upon the restaurant as all eyes watched with unabashed curiosity. _

_This couldn't be happening. This wasn't happening. She didn't want this. She knew that this was inevitable, they'd been dating for two years, but they were so young. Ron didn't know what he wanted. She couldn't go through with this. She froze, knowing that everyone waited with baited breath for the next few words to leave his mouth. She watched in silent horror as he fumbled with a pocket on the inside of his blazer. He pulled out a small, square, midnight blue velvet box. He opened it slowly, his eyes filled with a mixture of love, fear, and hope. She couldn't hurt him. Not when he was looking at her like that. But she couldn't sacrifice her own happiness. _

_"Hermione Jean Granger, will you marry me?" he asked. _

_The room was silent. Not even the sound of silverware on a plate could be heard around her. All of her senses went numb. She felt her heart shatter within her chest as she fought to regulate her breathing. There was no point in hyperventilating. She felt a part of herself die at his declaration. All she could feel was the crushing weight of despair. This was all so unfair! They hadn't discussed their future or marriage. She thought he enjoyed being young and in just a relationship. She didn't know he wanted to get tied down so soon. _

_That was when it hit her. All the air in her body escaped her in a whoosh. She looked at the hopeful man before her, and really looked at him, as though seeing him for the first time. His eyes were cerulean blue and crinkled slightly at the corners. His nose was average, as was his mouth. Freckles were splashed across his fair skin. Messy orange-brown hair was slightly tamed as it hung to his ears. He was built like a keeper, and his height was an ideal six feet even. But even as she looked at the face she had known for the better part of the last eight years, she could only think of one thing._

_She always imagined this day would be different. She always dreamed of a man with unforgettable white-blond hair with molten silver eyes kneeling before her. She never even considered that it would be Ron. She knew of his obligations, though. She knew that no one would ever give them a chance. _

_Perhaps, if everything was different, if they had a chance to make everything work, then maybe everything would have been alright. Maybe it would have been a certain Slytherin looking at her hopefully on one knee instead._

_But it wasn't, and it never would be. _

_The silence was becoming tense as it stretched on. _

_She couldn't do this. Especially not now. Not when she knew that she could never give to Ron what she gave to another._

_She opened her mouth, her answer shouting itself within her head over and over again._

_No. "Yes."_

_Hermione sat in frozen horror as the word slipped through her lips. That wasn't what she wanted to say. That wasn't what she meant to say. But she had said it. There was no going back now. She was condemned to a life full of emptiness._

She stared at the ring on her finger, her mind back to the present once again. She gazed at the foreign object with a ferocity she hoped would cause it to disappear. It was a white-gold band with a collection of diamonds that encircled a huge ruby. She supposed she should have known it would have some sort of Gryffindor colour tied in, but the more stared at it, the more wrong it felt. It was beautiful, ostentatious, and so _not_ her.


End file.
